the hunt
by Jonn Wood
Summary: Luna and Neville go on a trip. DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS.


Luna, with some effort, crested the hill. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and found that the fresh breeze waiting for her on its top nearly blew her hat off.

Sweden was windy, this time of year.

She held onto her hat as Neville came up behind her, with a good deal more effort, the gusts tugging her hair backwards, twining it with the ribbons—

"I can't find Trevor," said her friend.

Luna laughed.

"Which one is he now? The third?" She fished what looked like a monocole out of her robes, and screwed it into her eye. Neville caught her hat just as it blew off. She didn't notice him putting it back on her head, as she was focusing the Lengthy Lens on a particular patch of ground, about a quarter-mile distant.

"There," she whispered, and without further ado went running, sliding down the slope. A few dozen feet, to build up momentum, and she spun herself straight through thin air and back out, right above the smallish horned beast, her life's ambition-

The crumple-horned snorkack avoided her grasping hands easily, gave her a withering glare as she smacked into the muddy patch, and vanished on the spot, leaving her facedown in the grime, her hair floating softly into the muck. There was a soft _pop_.

"Luna…?" Neville said hesitantly. Her shoulders were shaking, and he reached down to touch her just as she sat up, laughing. She was still laughing as she cleaned off herself with a Scouring Charm, still laughing as she fished the Lens out. In fact, it only petered out as she _floomped_ onto the grass, a smile stretched broad across her face, another one tugging at the edges of Neville's mouth. He fell to the ground beside her, and they lay there, just watching the clouds go by, and the wind blowing the long grass.

"I'm glad you dragged me out here."

"Mmm."

"Nice day, isn't it?"

"Mmm."

"How about those cannons?"

"Rain."

"Mmm?"

"Clouds. Rain."

"Oh." Neville looked up. "I guess we'd better find some shelter, eh?"

"Yes, we should." They looked up at the sky for a few minutes before Luna said "I think I have one in my bag."

They got the tent up just as the rain started to come down, and a few splatters caught the edge of Neville's slacks, just as they got inside. It did not smell of cats.

"Sorry about the mess," Luna said.

The floor was covered in assorted newspapers in languages Neville didn't speak, a dozen or so jars in various states of occupancy, a few stacks of dusty grimoires, and some broken nets, stacked in a corner.

"Don't worry about it," Neville said, still smiling. "Kitchen?"

As he pulled various spices from the cupboards, he heard Luna transcribing the day's events in her journal.

_1 PM: Arrive at Hogwarts._

_2 PM: Find Neville, wrest him away from his stacks of paperwork._

_2:17 PM: Leave Hogwarts. Apparate to a Portkey back home with Dad._

_2:18 PM: Arrive in Sweden. Spend the rest of the afternoon hunting crumple-horned snorkak, until rain._

"Does it pay much?"

"This? No, but I'm not doing it for the money." Luna said brightly. Neville heard a snap as she closed the book. "I get to go to strange places, meet new people, name new animals."

"About that; I don't appreciate having a slug named _Venomous Longbottomus_."

"Really?" said Luna from the doorway "No, not that one, that's a Knarl."

"Why on Earth do you have a Knarl in a jar in your spice cupboard?"

"Keeps away the Wrackspurts."

Neville leaned back, gave Luna a searching look, and continued making dinner.

A short time later, he presented his friend with a small hen, garnished with turnips. Mashed potatoes as a side dish. The dinner conversation was as flavorful and easy as the butterbeer. Neville learned about spices in the course of his work, he explained, and Luna, naturally, asked him why.

"I don't know," he said, stirring the greens around with his fork. "I'm not very good at Charms, or potions-"

"I mean, why did you become a teacher at all? Did you notice any Umgubular Slashkilters around when you made your decision?

"…no."

Pause. She was waiting, her eyes just as big as he remembered. If she were someone else, someone just a little bit different, he could drown in them.

Something growled in his chest. He and Luna both looked at his stomach.

"You can have my half, I'm not that hungry." she lied.

She had been on her vacation, after the graduation and the battle, and the awards and the interviews, she had just wanted out. So she found herself, in the middle of some forest somewhere, with nothing but her wand and her wits, and she caught a creature no one had ever seen before. She had gone back to buy a tent, and never looked back.

Did he know that Luna's father took out a Gringotts vault for all the letters and gifts people sent her? Well, Neville was still getting autograph requests. And toads were back in fashion. And he got marriage offers. Any girlfriends?

"No, not many."

"Why not? Professor's salary, helped defeat You-Know-Who-"

"My fault, really. They just seemed too…much for me. Not like you."

Oh, crap.

Luna's face cycled rapidly through surprise, happiness, fear, and worry before settling on a sort of wary anticipation. She tucked her hair behind her ear, cleared her throat, stared at the remains of their dinner. "What does that mean?" she said in a small voice.

"I have-used to have a crush on you. Back at Hogwarts." Why were his lips still moving? "Never told you, of course, because I didn't see how you, how someone like _you_ could like me. But I always wondered…"

The silence stretched, was broken by a _croak_. Neville looked down. "Hello, Trevor."

"He must've gotten into my bag, and into the tent at some point."

"What happened to the first one?" Luna asked as Neville picked up his pet.

"The government stole my toad," he said grimly. "They stole Trevor, he was never the same after that. Then they went after my Grandma." Shrug. "Tried to, anyway."

"I have a guest bed." Luna said, with an elaborate yawn. "Upstairs. You can go on ahead, I have some…letters…"

Ouch. Well, at least it was better than that girl who broke up with him by canary. Dozens of 'em.

Neville found an extra toothbrush in the small bathroom, and some green pajamas that were a little tight around the armpits. He went to bed, muttering to himself about what he could've done, should've done. Maybe he should've just kissed her. Eventually, he fell asleep.

A few hours later, he woke up as light fell on him, the door to the landing opening and closing again. He felt someone sit on his bed, and he had flicked on the lamp as his mouth opened for a _Luna, what_ when someone shut him up by pressing her lips on his. He sank back down onto the bed, as hair tickled his face, and a small hand on his turned out the light.


End file.
